CHAPTER 281: CHAPTER 281 SURVIVAL

I had zero experience in survival. Sitting on my suitcase, I felt lost. I looked over at Ashton, who was still sorting through his own small case. ‘What do we do first?’

‘We get out of this forest.’

The suitcase wheels had long since snapped, so Ashton hoisted one on each shoulder and started walking.

I hurried after him, trying to lend a hand. But he didn’t need my help.

‘Walk beside me.’

‘Hm?’ I didn’t understand, but obediently moved next to him. ‘Why?’

‘Take my arm.’

My eyes slid down to his arm. Because of the weight on his shoulder, the muscles stood out sharply. A mixture of strength and raw power.

I swallowed before I could stop myself. ‘Why?’

‘There’re fallen branches and rocks everywhere. I don’t want you to trip and fall.’

‘I can manage.’

‘There could be animals here.’

‘Really? Like what?’

‘Like wolves.’

I shivered and glanced around nervously, half expecting a wolf to appear. But were there even wolves on Mediterranean islands?

‘You... you’re not lying to me, are you?’

‘No,’ he said with a perfectly straight face. ‘If we run into them, the suitcases will be our only weapon. And you need to be ready to run the moment I throw the suitcases at them.’

I didn’t really believe him. Still, my hand slid onto his muscled arm.

I stayed alert, worried about wolves.

Ashton’s words kept replaying in my head.

It stunned me that I could feel happy just because Ashton said he would value me more than the suitcase, even though the suitcase was filled with survival essentials.

It meant Ashton valued my life more than survival itself.

But how could that be? When I asked to break up, he had been so calm, so decisive.

Yet I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

When we stepped out of the forest, I tugged my suitcase from his hands. The leaf dress had done its job, but now that I had my own clothes, there was no reason not to change.

I picked out a fitted black long-sleeved shirt and tight black jeans. Hot, yes, but durable and practical. I wanted something that would let me climb and run, protect against insects, and blend in.

Even without wilderness survival skills, I knew at least that much.

But just as I held them up, I felt a scorching stare.

I turned, meeting Ashton’s eyes.

‘What’s wrong with them?’ I asked, pointing at the shirt and jeans. ‘Something I don’t know about?’

He frowned. ‘Black absorbs heat. You’ll lose water too quickly. Since we haven’t confirmed a safe water source yet, better not.’

I gave up and let him choose.

He handed me an oversized white T-shirt and a pair of baggy tracksuit bottoms.

Taking his approved clothes, I slipped behind a tree to change.

When I came back, Ashton was digging holes in the sand with a stick.

I shoved my discarded clothes into a laundry bag and ran over. ‘Anything I can do to help?’

‘Pick up a couple of stones. About the size of both your hands put together. Just two to start with.’

I nodded, my mood brightening. It wasn’t much, but at least I could contribute.

Ashton added quickly, ‘Don’t go into the forest. Stay close to the beach. Not too far.’

I turned back, frowning. ‘Not too far means how far exactly?’

He jabbed the stick into the sand, glanced up at me, and said clearly, ‘Stay where I can see you.’

I went ahead to search the beach. Soon enough, I found two stones and carried them back.

As I turned, I nearly dropped them when I met Ashton’s unblinking gaze. He really had been watching me the entire time.

My heart skipped.

Back at his side, I held the stones out. ‘Here. But what do you need them for?’

‘For camp.’ His reply was as blunt as ever.

‘How do a few stones make a camp?’

In my head, a camp meant tents, not rocks.

He didn’t reply.

Ashton worked swiftly, taking a few stones from the pile he had carried back. He dropped them into one of the pits, then stacked the rest into a small mound, leaving a narrow gap at the centre just wide enough for a thick branch.

He repeated the process twice more until all three pits were filled with stone mounds.

Next, he took three sturdy branches he had collected earlier, each difficult to snap, and planted them upright in the middle of the stone piles.

I had been watching with real interest, until the next step went wrong.

He was supposed to pull the branches together at the centre to form a cone, then bind them with long, tough leaves that would serve as rope. But every strip he tried snapped after only a turn or two.

Without something strong enough to tie them, he couldn’t go on.

Holding the branches steady with one hand, Ashton frowned in thought. Suddenly his gaze shifted to the clothes lying nearby.

He only had two shirts in his suitcase.

If he tore one up for rope, he would be left with a single shirt to wear and nothing to change into.

Yet he didn’t even hesitate. He crouched, reached for a grey T-shirt, and was about to rip it when I stopped him.

‘Wait.’

His fingers stilled.

I ran to my suitcase, rummaged inside, and came back carrying a box.

Jogging up to him, I thrust it out. ‘Tear this one. I hardly ever wear it anyway.’

His brows lifted slightly, but he accepted the box, opened it, and pulled out the shirt inside.

The rope made from expensive fabric held firm.

While Ashton finished setting up camp, I was sent to the beach to arrange a rescue signal.

This time, it was my lipstick that paid the price.